


Cue the Sun

by lizwontcry



Category: The Truman Show (1998)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 12:10:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13053714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwontcry/pseuds/lizwontcry
Summary: Who is Truman when no one is watching? Truman has to discover what's real after living in a fake void for his entire life.





	Cue the Sun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thinlizzy2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide! I hope this is what you had in mind for the Truman Show. It was definitely interesting to think about what comes next for Truman.

Everything was different in the real world. It was certainly harder to navigate when everyone thought they knew him, and yet he didn't know a single thing about himself. And not all the people he met were friendly; they apparently wanted things from him when he had nothing to give.

They asked for his autograph, his picture, his side of the story, his truth. His time, and his life. It was overwhelming in those first months after he left the void.

And yet, the hardest thing to get used to was waking up every morning. He still woke up at 7 AM every day, without an alarm, but he was not always greeted by the warmth of a fake sun. No, sometimes it was still dark; sometimes it was cloudy, and sometimes, it was even raining. Rain was not common back in what Truman eventually learned is the largest studio on earth. He was used to the sun on his face, the warmth in his skin, and now, he couldn't even rely on that.

Truman always thought of himself as an optimist, which he realized now was easy to do when he was the star of the show. But as soon as he walked up those stairs and out of the door into a building full of people who had been producing his life for the last 30 years, Truman obviously started to question everything that's ever happened. Not to mention he had nowhere to go; he didn't even know what direction to walk in and what would be there when he eventually chose one. His savior that life-altering day was Chloe, who he'd learn was one of Christof's assistant. 

"Truman! Truman, hold on," he had heard a voice say just as he was starting to feel like maybe he should just go back. He turned around and there was Chloe. She introduced herself, and he had nodded stiffly. All he knew was that she had been a part of his production, and he couldn't trust anyone in this... whatever the hell it was.

"Come on," she'd said. "I have a plan. Follow me."

Truman blindly followed her--where else was he going to go? She led him to her car, where she had driven him to her house and told him to come in. Chloe made him a cup of tea, which he ignored, and started talking. First he asked every question he could think of regarding what everyone on the entire planet seemed to know but him. He listened in horror as Chloe told him about being born, being adopted by a corporation, how everyone watched every moment of his life, and what role Christof played in it--which was to say, how Christof played Truman's personal God, and how all the big events in Truman's life were planned sometimes even years in advance. 

"So my mom... and my dad..."

"Your real mother and father were drug-addicted teenagers," Chloe said. "They put you up for adoption and, well, out of the many candidates Christof had chosen, you were born first. So you won."

Truman chuckled. "I won? What did I win, exactly? A lifetime's worth of lies?"

"Truman--"

"So my mother and father, the ones who 'raised me,' who are they?"

Chloe looked like she wanted to avoid this conversation at all costs. "Well. They are actors. They were paid very handsomely to pretend to be your parents. Angela actually has a family of her own. Remember when you thought she had gotten really fat and tried to convince her to go on a diet?"

Truman nodded sadly. That was probably fake, too.

"She was pregnant. When she went to that spa to lose the weight, she was actually having and raising her daughter Lucy. I know it hurts, Truman. I don't know how to make it any easier for you."

"And my dad?"

"He eventually had a few kids, too. That's why he was written off the show. When Kirk came back, he genuinely missed you and wanted to get you out of there. Well... I guess he succeeded," Chloe said regretfully.

Well, that's something, Truman thought. That's really something. Chloe could tell he didn't know what to say, so she changed the subject.

"Truman, a few years ago, Walter--he's another one of Christof's assistants--made a plan for what would happen if you ever got out."

Truman shook his head. The numbness was starting to wear off, and he had a lot of questions.

"Why didn't you, I don't know, tell me about this? If you had some elaborate plan to break me out, why didn't you do just that?"

Chloe looked so guilty that Truman almost wanted to hug her. But then again, she had played a part in this grand lie, and he wouldn't let her off the hook for that.

"The simple answer is we couldn't. If we had so much as looked in your direction, we would have been fired, sued, our careers would have been destroyed, and whatever else Christof planned for us. We signed all kinds of waivers declaring we could not make contact with you. But you left on your own terms. There wasn't a waiver for that."

This was far from a suitable explanation for Truman, but he nodded anyway. "Fine. What else do you want to say?"

Chloe explained how she and Walter had been buying clothes for him, paying rent on a small apartment he could stay in for a while; they'd even furnished it and bought toiletries for him.  


Truman knew this came from their guilt that they took part in this experiment and were instrumental in the production, but he was also thankful for the amount of thought they put into helping him in this transition.

As he half-listened to Chloe explain the next steps she and Walter had set up, there was knock on the door. Chloe looked at Truman and gave him a conspiratorial smile, and Truman had a sudden change in mood. He just knew who was at that door. It had to be her. It just had to be.

Before Chloe could get up, Truman was out of his chair and sprinting toward the door. And when he triumphantly opened it, there she was. Sylvia. She wasn't in Fiji. She wasn't in his dreams or fantasies. She was standing right in front of him--she was real.

"Is it really you?" Truman asked, just to have something to say to keep him from taking her hand and running across the world with her.

"It's me," she said, and Truman reached for out and she clung to him, and they embraced for what seemed like an eternity. 

Although she seemed as happy to see him as he was her, he still wanted to make sure they were on the same page. It had, after all, been many years since he'd seen her last. Maybe she was married, and maybe she had kids, and maybe she was only here to see him because Chloe had called her to say good-bye before he had to figure out how the real world worked. He couldn't trust anything anymore. 

"May I kiss you?" Truman asked Sylvia. She laughed and said, "Of course!" So he did. And it was no surprise to him that this was the first kiss he'd ever given or received that felt real, that had actual passion, that ignited any kind of spark within him. Now he realized the point of kissing. 

Truman didn't really give much thought to Meryl in those first few days after leaving. Actually, he didn't think about her much at all the minute he left the studio. Maybe once upon a time he had some kind of feelings for her, but they were nothing compared to his love--and yes, he knew somehow that it was love--for Sylvia, a woman he had kept in his heart ever since they first met. Meryl was a distant memory the second he laid eyes on Sylvia again.

"I'll leave you two alone for a minute," Chloe said behind them--Truman had forgotten she existed, actually. 

He and Sylvia sat down together and she started talking without taking a breath. 

"I've been waiting, Truman. Every time you talked about Fiji or looked at that picture you made of me, I never lost hope that you would get out of there someday. I can't believe you did it. You're here! You're here now."

Truman loved listening to Sylvia talk. He felt relief that she had waited for him for so long. And he was heartbroken because he was not going to be able to keep up with her. He wasn't able to offer her, well, anything. That's not how he wanted to start over with this beautiful creature who had lived in his dreams for so long. 

"So I know Chloe got an apartment for you, but you can come with me, Truman. I have a house, it's small but it has room for the two of us, and you can stay there and I'll bring you whatever you need. You don't have to leave if you don't want to! I know how hard it will be for you, and I want to make it easier. Please, just tell me what you need."

Truman thought about it, of course. It would be so easy to hide in her house, wait for her to come home from work every day with whatever they would eat for dinner, and then watch TV together snuggled under a blanket, not acknowledging the real world. It sounded like paradise, but... she didn't deserve that. No one did. 

He took Sylvia's hand and said, "Sylvia. I want to make you happy. You deserve to be happy after waiting for so long. But I have nothing to give you."

Sylvia started to protest but Truman continued. "Please. Give me some time. I'll make it up to you someday. But I have to learn how to be me without you." It made sense to him, but clearly Sylvia didn't understand. He pleaded with her, and she listened to him, but by the time she left Chloe's house, she was heartbroken and he was, well, devastated. Still, he had to find out what life on his own was like before he could give her anything, including his heart.  


*****

It was hard... it was so hard. Truman lived in the apartment Chloe set up for him, and worked at the insurance agency Walter convinced to give him a job. Truman quickly found that actually selling insurance to people who aren't being paid to interact with him was rather challenging, and frequently he had no idea what he was doing. Furthermore, being around people who have watched his every move for his entire life was literally exhausting. They thought they knew everything about him, and yet he didn't know them at all. They were just a face on the street.

He was also approached by lawyers almost every day. They tried to convince him to sue. Sue the actors who pretended to be his family and friends, sue Christof, sue the whole studio--sue everyone, if necessary. Truman did consider it for a while. If he won, he could quit the awful insurance job, take the money and hide forever. He would often fantasize about doing just that. But somehow, Truman just couldn't do it. It was too easy. He wanted to earn his new life the hard way now since he hadn't had an opportunity to do it in the past. It was strange for him to think about and acknowledge that maybe some of the values his fake parents instilled in him would still be the guiding force in his decision making process.

So Truman kept working in insurance, kept encountering lawyers, kept getting stopped on the street by people who had made his life their entertainment for however many years. But eventually, it did get easier. Truman started seeing a therapist, even though he was slightly terrified of what that entailed. The therapist, a woman he found in the phone book named Dr. Jennifer Rose, had never seen him on TV, or at least that's what she claimed. Truman obviously had trouble confiding in her at first, but then he found how cathartic it was to tell her the whole story, and for her to give him actual helpful advice.

The biggest factor in his healing process, and what he considered his secret weapon against everyone who hurt him, was the decision to write a book. In junior high and high school, Truman used to be quite a writer. He loved it and imagined writing comic books and novels and any other universe he could think of entering. But for some reason, his parents and teachers discouraged him from this hobby. Maybe there wasn't enough profit potential in it for Christof. Now, every night after work he went back to his apartment and wrote. He wrote his life story and how it felt to have been under a microscope for all those years. It was all part of the healing process and he loved every minute of it.

Truman called Sylvia every now and then. She was always happy to hear from him but they didn't talk about anything serious. To Truman, Sylvia is the goal. He knew she thought she could help him with this transition period of his life, but he didn't want to put her through that. It wasn't her responsibility to fix him. Maybe that wasn't fair to either of them, but Truman needed to find purpose again; he needed to figure out who he was before he could be who he needed to be for her. 

It made sense in his head, anyway.

However, six months later, almost a year after he left the protective bubble of Christof's world, Truman felt like he was stalling. Progress was slow. That lawsuit was looking better and better all the time. Truman was disappointed. Why was this process taking so long? He wanted to move on. He just... couldn't.

Truman dragged himself through another day at work, wishing that everything was different, or that he was still back in the studio pretending to live a fake life. On the way home, he stopped to get some fast food, even though he generally tried to avoid eating that stuff. It was just one of those days, and Truman was going to let the leftover grief and depression wash over him.

The universe apparently had other plans, though, because standing at his door were two people he never thought he'd see again--and never wanted to. Marlon and Angela, his pretend best friend and fake mom, were standing there, like two ghosts he only saw in his nightmares.

Truman gripped his bag of McDonald's and tried to think happy thoughts so he wouldn't turn around and run away forever.

"Truman, honey, it's so good to see you," Angela said, and came forward to hug him. Truman wanted to resist; he wanted to not feel anything for this impostor, but... he had lived an entire life thinking this woman was his mother, so he accepted it and somehow found comfort in it. She smelled the same as always, and it made him feel like he needed his mother.

"Hey, Truman. Good to see you," Marlon said. Truman didn't care as much for Marlon's hand shake. Marlon, Truman had learned, was one of Christof's right hand men and had helped set up so many of Truman's life experiences. He wasn't just a passive voice in the organization, which Truman was still trying to understand. 

"Great to see my old bestie," Truman grunted. "What are ya doin' here? Want to come in and have a beer? Talk about the good ol' days!"

He ignored the look on Marlon's face while he walked past him to unlock the door. Marlon and Angela returned the favor by not commenting on what a wreck his apartment was. Clothes were strewn over every available surface, bowls of cereal and old boxes of pizza were sitting on the kitchen and living room tables. Truman knew it was a mess, but couldn't bring himself to care.

Truman sat down at the messy kitchen table after throwing some underwear out of his chair, and began to eat his quarter pounder. He put some ketchup in the wrapper to dip his fries. When they realized Truman wasn't going to make this easy, Marlon and Angela found some empty chairs and brought them to the table. Truman didn't offer them anything, and waited for them to talk.

"Truman. We realize you must be angry with us, and we completely understand, of course. But... we miss you," Angela said, and she pretended not to notice Truman rolling his eyes.

"We'd like to get to know you again," Marlon said. "We'd like you to get to know _us._ "

Truman honestly couldn't believe the nerve of these people. He wanted so badly to remain cool and not lose his composure, but it was kind of impossible.

"Really? Is that it? You want to 'get to know me'? You mean the me who has a terrible job and crappy apartment and a therapist who helps me get past the trauma of being lied to for the past 30 years? Great! Let's all go to dinner tonight and talk it over with some margaritas and chips and salsa. It's on me!" Truman took a deep breath. He didn't like being this angry. Before all this happened, he prided himself on being a happy go lucky, optimistic guy. It was one of the things that hurt the most--that he never even saw it coming. He literally had no suspicions that nothing was real until Sylvia tried to tell him at the beach, and even then, he couldn't believe it--wouldn't believe it. 

Angela and Marlon looked at each other guiltily. Maybe they hadn't thought this out as carefully as they should. What could they have hoped to accomplish?

"Truman, we're terribly sorry about all of this. Marlon was just a kid when this all started; his parents figured it would be fun and lucrative for him to be involved in a project like this. Did you know he had to legally emancipate himself at 16 so they would stop stealing all the money he earned? He hasn't even spoken to them in a decade," Angela said. 

Truman could feel himself backing down just a tiny bit. "Is that really true?" He asked Marlon.

Marlon nodded. "Yeah. It's true. I know what it's like to be estranged from your parents--not that it means I can possibly understand what you're going through, but I get the idea. It sucks, and I'm sorry for the role I played in it. We're in the same boat, man."

Truman didn't bother correcting Marlon. They were not and never would be in the same boat. But Marlon looked so distraught, Truman believed Marlon _thought_ they had a shared experience. 

"That sucks... man," Truman said. "But why are you here?"

Marlon and Angela shared another look.

"We miss you, but that's not the only reason why we came here," Marlon said. "I wanted to tell you that Christof had us all under contract for years, and he wanted to start something new. Not the same thing, but it would have been equally as devastating to whomever got involved. Well, we quit. Angela and I, and most of the background actors quit, and he's suing all of us, not to mention blackballing us from everything. We can't get jobs in this industry. We're screwed."

Truman took a bit of comfort in this revelation, but it didn't really affect him, now did it? Christof was going to get away with it all, and the little people would never win.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but what do you want me to do about it? I'm not going to sue him. I don't want anything to do with him."

"Look, Truman, I really need you to know something. It's not about Christof, not really. I realize you think I'm a fraud, but you need a friend right now. And we _were_ friends. Not everything was fake. I was there with you all that time. We had real conversations, man. About real things. Those emotions and feelings were real! The experiences we had, those were real, too. I always considered you to be a true friend."

Truman was so conflicted. In a way, Marlon was right. Almost everything Truman experienced, Marlon was beside him, or he heard about it not too long after. But the fact that Marlon knew the entire time that this was all a play; that he was paid to be Truman's friend, that he engineered so many things they went through together... that, Truman had a hard time forgiving. He tried to think of a reply, but it hurt too much. And he kind of liked to see Marlon suffer a bit.

Angela could tell that Truman wasn't going to make Marlon feel better about this. "Well, I suppose we also came to see you because we feel bad about it all. And we wanted you to know that the people who played the biggest parts in your life, well, karma has come for us. So if you can get a little bit of peace from knowing that... then I hope you do."

"Okay. Well, thanks for coming by," Truman said. He had nothing else to offer them.

Marlon sighed. Clearly he wanted more from Truman. Angela was starting to look frustrated, too.

"Marlon, go wait in the car," Angela said. "I need to talk to Truman alone."

Marlon looked like he wanted to protest, but instead he got up without a sound and left the apartment. Clearly "best friend's mother" was still something powerful even if it wasn't real. 

Angela scooted closer to Truman. He allowed it. 

"Truman... give Marlon a break. He feels utterly terrible about the part he's played in this mess, and obviously so do I. Now that we've been fired and are having trouble finding something else to do, we've come to the realization that we had responsibility for this. Not all of it, but we were complicit. But Marlon was right. You two _were_ best friends. And I _did_ raise you. I might not be your mother, but I raised you the best I could. You think I could have acted the love I grew for you? I'm not that good an actor, Truman. What I want to say is that you need a friend right now, and you need a parent. We can be those people for you. Let us in. We'll figure this out together."

Truman was tired of resisting. Angela was not his mother, but he didn't have a replacement mother. He was lonely. And although he wasn't ready to forget, he was ready to forgive.

"Okay. Fine. Let's do this. Let's help each other," Truman said, and Angela grinned and hugged him close to her, and he let her, and it was then and there that Truman let himself believe that it was all going to be okay.

*****

Fiji was everything Truman fantasized it to be, and so was Sylvia. She was patient, and she was kind, and she welcomed him into her life with open arms when he finally came to her and said he was ready. She took a leave of absence from work once Truman's novel was published and he quit his awful job, and they spent two entire months in Fiji. They swam in the crystal blue water and felt the warm sand under their feet. No one knew who they were; nobody bothered them or asked Truman for his autograph or demanded his life story. They drank rum and wine and Truman discovered what it was like to make love to a woman that he actually cared about it and could see a long future play out before them.

When they returned from Fiji, Truman had a little party for his old friends, and invited Marlon, Angela, Chloe, and a few others he had missed from his previous life. Sylvia never left his side, and Truman could feel the laughter come deep from his gut again. The optimism he took so much pride in was slowly reforming in his heart again, too. He had a ways to go to heal completely, but he wasn't going to let it drag him down anymore.

When the evening was over, the last person to leave was Marlon. He joked that he would stay, but he didn't want to know what was about to happen in the bedroom, and Sylvia had laughed and smacked him on the arm. Like Truman, Sylvia didn't trust Marlon at first, but as he and Marlon hung out more and cultivated a real, true friendship, she warmed up to him.

"Good night, Truman. See you on the other side," Marlon said as he was leaving.

"Well, Marlon, if I don't see you tomorrow, have a good morning, a good afternoon, a good evening, and a good night!" Truman said. Marlon laughed, and then he was gone. Truman and Sylvia looked at the mess, and decided to deal with it in the morning. They had a new reality to live, and the dishes could wait.


End file.
